A Projectionist
by jubliblob
Summary: No one ever thinks they'll fall in love over the pretense of watching classic horror movies.


_This is really frickin' long (to me anyway) and there's a few horror movie spoilers. Took me ages to write so i'd love to hear what you think :)_

_Sorry for any mistakes_

A Projectionist

The first time she sees her she's just a shadow in the theatre.

At midnight showings on Friday nights the theatre is usually empty, especially when said theatre is showing the 1984 original of _A Nightmare on Elm Street_, but there she is, sat middle front row with her head craned to catch every part of the film Brittany is projecting.

It sort of makes her nervous, in a weird way. Not because she's scared of messing up or anything, she's done this job for four years now and knows that dusty old projector like the back of her hand, it's more like she's intimidated by how the girl can just sit there, a silhouette on her own against the bright screen and watch one of the best and scariest horror movies there is and not even flinch.

When Johnny Depp's character starts to fall asleep and meets his untimely end by being sucked into the bed, she doesn't even let out a little squeal or something, just stares like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Not that she looks like the type of person to let out little squeals every now and again, though what can you tell from the back of a strangers head.

The cinema is almost rounding to about fifty years old, meaning the quality of the screen isn't very good and she has to replace the light bulb in the projector room every thirty seconds because the wires are faulty, but she can see why people come here. They've kept the original projectors making the cinema unique from all the digital ones now, though it does stop them from playing any actual up to date films, meaning most of their clientele are seventy year olds on day trips from the retirement home round the corner.

So when she sees this woman that looks on the right side of her twenties in _her_ theatre it intrigues her so much that she seems to be looking out the viewer window every five minutes to see if anything's changed.

It hadn't.

Quinn comes in just after she's changed projectors and readjusted the focus, passing her a banana milkshake and a stick of gum "There's a girl down there" she says and Quinn goes over to look, already chewing on her gum.

"Huh, weird" is all the short haired blonde says, then grabs a fistful of Brittany's designated work polo and plants a long kiss on her lips. "I'm leaving" she whispers "I guess you'll have to stay for your mystery girl"

"I guess I do" Brittany murmurs with a yawn building in her voice.

With a smirk Quinn leaves, a milkshake slurping Brittany watching her go.

Brittany resides to watch the rest of the movie with her mystery girl, only flinching now and then but a lot less than she would have normally, despite her very large collection of horror movies at her apartment she still got chills when she watched Freddy Krueger do his thing on a couple unsuspecting teens. Plus, there was just something about dying in your dreams that got to her.

When the credits roll and mystery girl starts to exit the theatre, she shuts down the machine and throws her now empty paper cup in the trash, switching the lights off once she's gone.

She finally sees mystery girls face two weeks later, after two Friday nights where she sat alone again, watching _The Blob_ and then _Frankenstein_.

Right outside the theatre when Mike, the owner, is locking up and wishing her good night she turned to find mystery girl leant against a wall with her arms crossed and a suggestive smirk on her face.

Kind of like she knew she'd talked about her and wondered about her and maybe kind of stared at the back of her head a little but that was impossible, she couldn't know. Could she?

Her face was just like, wow. That's the only way anyone could describe it because it was just like raw beauty or something, and she had a pretty good looking girlfriend herself that would probably kill her for looking at another girl but she couldn't help it. Her heart started beating ten times faster and her stomach erupted in ravenous butterflies.

She was no cheater; her father was but not her. When mystery girl looked at her then though, something clicked and she knew that she had to have her, no matter what.

* * *

Mike cancels the Friday night midnight showing after that for some unexplained reason and sticks her with maintenance until the theatre closes at three am. Maintenance is part of her job but she hates doing it at night, the walls creak and things move out of the corner of her eye and it scares the crap out of her on normal days, especially when she's on her own.

The ladder isn't tall enough to reach all the way to the ceiling so she has to stretch as high as she can to screw in the new light bulbs in the lobby and it annoys her because how easy is it to buy a ladder just a little taller or a new chair in the projector room that doesn't reek of piss.

Maybe if Quinn didn't get paid so much she could get a new chair.

She shouldn't be jealous of her girlfriend. The girl gets paid almost three more dollars an hour than she does to sit behind a counter and hand out tickets and stale popcorn, while she gets stuck with running dusty projectors and fixing every little brake in a hundred year old building- meaning a lot of brakes-, so yeah, she couldn't help being jealous of the girl.

"Excuse me"

The voice shocks her so much she slips on the ladder and ends up grabbing at the wall for support, making a loud screeching noise as her clammy hand slipped down the wall until she caught her footing again.

She looks down to find mystery girl next to the ticket counter, opposite where Quinn was lounged with her feet up on the glass case, both were staring at her. Quinn with her patented _are you retarded? _face and mystery girl with that same knowing smirk that made her vocal chords close up and her hands get even more clammy.

All she gets out is a breathy sorry.

"Where's the midnight film? It's usually displayed on the board outside and it's not" mystery girl says to Quinn, and the sound makes Brittany's heart flutter so much that she climbs down the ladder and goes to stand beside where Quinn sat at fear of falling to her untimely death.

"That was cancelled last week" Quinn says in a bored monotone "The last film showing should be finishing now" she points to a door to the left where an old man with a happy smile is walking out the double doors, hands in his pockets as he whistles gleefully like he was a young man once again.

One of Brittany's friends, Sam, whose also a projectionist walks out a separate door and locks the theatre room after him.

"But you close in three hours" mystery girl says with an annoyed expression, crossing her arms defensively.

"Is watching…" she pauses to read the original movie list on the computer "_…Night of the Living Dead _really that important to you?"

Brittany grins _"They're coming to get you Barbaraaa" _she says in her best Russell Streiner voice and mystery girl smiles at her like it's the best thing in the world while Quinn gives her _that_ look again, and her girlfriend certainly doesn't appreciate it when Brittany pretends to be a zombie. Flailing her arms and moaning, pretending to try and bight at Quinn's neck, because that's what zombies do, but Quinn only flinches away with a disgusted look and a whiny:

"Cut it out Britt! You know it gives me the creeps when you do that"

So maybe she does it two or three times a week, who's counting.

"My shift's over, I'm leaving" Quinn exhales, taking her feet off the counter and grabbing her bag. She pecks Brittany on the lips before strutting out the building, without looking back.

Brittany smiles conspiratorially at mystery girl "You wanna go watch one of the best zombie movies ever made?" she asks.

Mystery girl leans in towards her and whispers "Are we aloud?"

"Well I don't see anyone stopping us" she says and gestures around the dead lobby. "I'm locking up anyway, so we can have some-" she stops herself before the word fun comes out because it might have been construed as something dirty which is definitely not what she meant even though she might have imagined it once or twice "-platonic shared moments…that are fun" she saves, her voice a little higher than she would have liked but she carries on all the same, grabbing the keys to theatre five and guiding the brunette girl inside it, walking her to her seat with an old flashlight.

She finds the film reel and sets up the projector in a matter of seconds, pushing the start button and adjusting the focus before sprinting down the stairs and entering the theatre, taking a seat right next to mystery girl, who seems shocked by her actions "Zombie movies are the best kind a movies" Brittany explains then turns back to the screen, missing the beaming smile that's aimed at her.

Half way through the movie mystery girl grabs her hand, sending her heart into her throat, and stares at her with those big brown eyes and pouty lips that make her just want to lean in and-

"Can you keep a secret?"

Her head bolts back in surprise "Yeah" she croaks.

"I _really _fuckin' hate Barbara" Brittany almost chokes on her tongue in relief and a stifled laugh.

"Barbara is almost the female lead, how can you not like her?"

"I just don't, I mean look how whiny she is" she points towards the screen where once again Barbara has curled up into a ball while the people around her save the house from being taken over by zombies "She's completely incapable of doing anything for herself without screaming about it, and I get that her brother's just died and she's in mourning or whatever but my god woman! Pull yourself together, you're surrounded by zombies get a frickin' clue" she belts out in one breath.

"Sorry" she murmurs, almost in second thought and looks away in embarrassment.

"Don't be" Brittany simply says, thinking about how she's just found the girl of her dreams.

At the end of the movie Brittany stands, the credits rolling to her right and extends her hand "I'm Brittany Pierce, by the way"

Mystery girl stands and takes her hand, shaking it twice "Santana Lopez"

From then on she meets Santana every Friday night at midnight and they watch all the old and classic horror movies Brittany can find.

Dracula, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, IT, Psycho, Misery, The Shining, When a Stranger Calls, Aliens, The Fly, The Day of the Triffids, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Silence of the Lambs, Child's Play, Hellraiser, The Omen, The Birds and even Jeepers Creepers, though there was some protest to whether that was classic horror.

While they watched they talked, Brittany learnt that Santana could quote any line from all the Hannibal films, that she hated all the new remakes of old films because they were never as good so they should just stop trying and that she was studying to become a lawyer at the city college and she was pretty good at it. Though Brittany noticed the way her shoulders slumped when she talked about it.

Santana actually listened for once when she talked about how Jack Nicholson was the greatest actor and human being alive instead of just tuning her out like everyone else did.

After watching Poltergeist together Santana grabs her hand, and even after knowing each other for nearly four months it still gives Brittany butterflies in her stomach "What's it like in a projector room?"

It's a hint that she wants to see it herself and Brittany latches onto it "I can show you if you want" Santana nods, Brittany takes her hand and leads her all the way to the back of the darkened theatre, opening the secret door and climbing the stairs two at a time.

She flicks the light on and the room fills with a yellow glow, she quickly stops the projector and shuts it down, watching Santana walk throughout the room, taking in the murky walls, the piled movie reels in one corner and finally the projectors themselves, both ancient machines almost filling up the small room.

"How old are they?" Santana asks, looking over the intricate mechanism.

"Well this one" Brittany says putting her hand against the hub of the projector "Is dated around 1956" she goes over to the second projector "This one is a little younger, dated around 1972 because the old one caught on fire and had to be replaced, funnily enough the older one runs better than the new one"

"Why do you need two? In case one breaks or something"

"Not really. We have two because film reels usually aren't long enough to just go on continuously on one projector, so the projectionist, like me, has to cut the reels down into sections." She says showing the work bench she uses to cut the reels and the splicer she uses "One section will be playing on projector A while projector B is being loaded with the next section. Whenever you see those little dots or slashes at the right corner of the screen, it's the projectionists cue to start the other projector, sometimes there's a little bell that rings on older films"

Santana smiles "So that's why you kept getting up half way through the movie" she laughs "And here's me thinking you just had a weak bladder"

Brittany smiles with her "Here I'll show you how it works" she goes over to the controls, moving the film back to the last scene with expert hands "Well, not all of it because it would take a lot longer" she waves Santana over and the brunette moves so she's standing next to the projector and in front of the viewing window, Brittany close behind her.

Brittany pulls the lever down and the shot fades onto the screen, music filling the theatre and the sound of each flickering frame encasing the room. Her eyes jump between the screen and Santana, shakily reaching out for the girls hand and placing it on the dial that adjusted the focus.

She looked back at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her hand moved the dial, the screen momentarily going into focus but blurring once again when she moved it too far.

"Here" Brittany covers Santana's hand with her own, ignoring the goose bumps that travel up her arm "You have to-" her train of thought dies when their eyes make contact.

She wants to lean in. She wants to lean in so bad that it feels like she could explode if she didn't. But she stops herself because she's not that kind of person and she'll never be that kind of person.

"You…you have to look at the screen"

Santana's eyes turn back to the screen, if not a little disappointedly, and she fiddles with the dial for a few long minutes as the scene in front of them plays out.

"You know" Santana breaks the silence "That the entire Poltergeist franchise, all three movies, were said to be under a curse because of the premature deaths connected with it"

"Really?"

"Uh huh" Santana hums, eyes straining to finally get it right, Brittany's hand still guiding her slightly "Four cast members died in the six years between the first film and the last, some people believed it was the spirits that were uprooted in the making of the films that killed them, others just thought it was a coincidence"

"What did you think?" Brittany asks.

Santana scoffs "I don't believe in ghosts"

"Spend ten minutes in theatre 9 and you'll believe anything" Brittany states.

"I doubt that"

"Oh you do, do you?"

"Yeah I do" she smirks.

* * *

Two days later when Brittany catches Quinn in bed with a girl from the gym, it doesn't sting as much as she thought it would.

There's the obvious feeling of betrayal, mixed in with a good dose of disgust because walking in on someone having sex is _still_ walking in on someone having sex and it isn't as glorious as it is displayed on the big screen.

It hurts a lot though.

And when Quinn's on her knees, tears spilling down her face, begging for forgiveness in the hallway of their shared apartment, all she can do is stare at the wall in anger.

Mrs. Gunderson from two doors down opens her door to see what all the noise is about, curlers are still lodged in her hair and she's wrapped in a fluffy pink gown, Brittany figures that eight o'clock at night must be the time Ms. Gunderson goes to bed.

They've disturbed her.

Mrs. Gunderson seems to assess the situation, listening to the pleas of _I'm sorry_ and _please don't leave_ coming from Quinn as she clings to her leg, and she gives her this sympathetic look that either makes her want to hug her or tell her to mind her own damn business.

The decision is made for her when the old woman goes back inside.

"I really loved you Quinn" she whispers, Quinn clutching onto her leg tighter by the second. The girl pleads with her to stay, for her to understand and it all hits a little too close to home for her. Previous pain and anguish from her father assaulting her brain like a shot to the head.

She can't stand it anymore; she kicks Quinn off of her, ignoring the shouting of her name in broken sobs and leaves.

It hurts a lot but she can't ignore the nagging of relief at the back of her mind.

She spends the rest of the night locked inside her projectionist's booth, _La Vie En Rose_ blaring out of her headphones as she cuts down forty films and services the entire theatre in the space of twelve hours.

Mike tries to get her to go out and drink her problems away but she refuses, she doesn't want to go and get drunk in some seedy bar or stay cooped up all day.

She wants Santana.

* * *

Mike gave her the rest of the day off, which was highly unusual considering she hadn't had a single paid day off in all of the four years she's worked there; even when her Dad died Mike just gave her a hug and a couple sad movies to play.

She gets on the first bus that pulls up in front of the cinema, hand digging into her back pocket for her bus pass.

She takes a seat on her own in the corner, picking at the fabric tearing off the seat as the bus pulls out onto the road. A group of girls and one boy are sat down talking to her left, laughing exuberantly and playing some indie song off one of their phones.

They're in college, Brittany figures, pretending to not listen to their conversation about parties and annoying teachers. She wonders for a brief moment if they know Santana but then stops herself when images of her getting off at the stop that's directly across from the college campus instead of the one below her apartment fill her head.

She could do it. Going back to the apartment now could risk seeing Quinn or worse, the girl she was with last night, and that would make things a lot more awkward and painful than they already are.

She might see Santana, which is the main advantage.

Well, the only advantage.

What harm could it do?

The bus comes to her stop and her legs refuse to move, like someone has suddenly super glued the back of her pants to the bus seat or that gremlin thing from The Twilight Zone has gripped onto her sneakers and refuses to let go.

Or it might not have been, but that gremlin thing scared the bejesus out of her so she scooch's over just in case.

The doors slam shut and she lets out a shaky breath, tugging at the loose fabric on the seat once again.

A woman with bright pink hair and a lip piercing smirks at her; the girls' eyes trailing along the expanse of Brittany's body when she changes seats to sit behind her and it's a little uncomfortable.

She can feel the woman's eyes on the back of her head and it makes her feel on edge, she sends a thank you to her guardian angel or whatever when the bus pulls up in front of what almost looks like a park there's so much grass. The bus driver says it's the college so she gets off. The pink haired girl and the group of friends following close behind her.

She doesn't know what she was thinking, this place is huge. There's about a one percent chance in finding Santana and even if she does she has no idea what she'd say to her.

"Are you lost?" the pink haired girl touches her forearm and she flinches away a little at the surprise contact.

"Umm yeah" she says, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jeans "Do you know where the law people are? The ones that are like, studying law type things"

The woman giggles and Brittany has no idea why because she didn't say anything funny, unless it was some kind of inside joke that she didn't get, if so this woman is quite rude "It's just down there" the woman points down the road "The brown building"

"Oh right, thanks" she smiles at her.

The girl winks, casting a "No problem sexy" over her shoulder when she leaves. Brittany would blush but she's too busy being confused, college kids are weird.

It's not a very homely building, and if you asked Brittany she wouldn't want to study there, especially when all the other buildings seem so vibrant and inviting but it looks a bunch better once she gets closer and she sees her.

Butterflies erupt in her stomach; her eyes watching Santana as she laughs and talks with a group of friends near the entrance, her hair is down and blowing slightly in the wind, her black tank top and ripped jeans clinging to her body in a way that makes Brittany's heart beat a lot faster.

She wishes she went to college. Maybe then she would have met Santana sooner and she'd be one of the friends making her laugh, she didn't because she never had the urge to. She got into being a projectionist when she was twelve and since then it's always been her dream to become one, she never even thought about studying further than high school, it just seemed right that she get a job at the movie theatre.

Santana must sense her eyes on her because she looks up from her friends, scans the area and finally meets Brittany's eyes, her expression one of shock.

She manages a lame awkward wave with a crooked smile and it seems to work because Santana is smiling that amazing smile and waving back, saying bye to her friends and jogging over to the sidewalk where Brittany stands.

"What are you doing here?" she smiles, slightly out of breath.

Brittany's mind goes blank "I umm" she scratches the back of her head "I don't really know"

Santana lets out a breathy laugh "Well, maybe you could figure it out while we get some coffee?"

Brittany smirks "Very smooth, I'm impressed"

"I do try" she laughs again, readjusting her shoulder bag "There's a coffee shop around the corner that sells the best cheesecake you will ever taste"

"Shouldn't a coffee shop be known for selling the best coffee?"

"True but the cheesecake is so good that you won't even pay attention to the coffee"

"That sounded kind of dirty" Brittany smiles.

"No it didn't" Santana smacks her arm playfully "You just have a dirty mind"

Brittany walks on Santana's left side, her eyes fixed on her hand and debating whether she could hold it in hers. Wondering whether it would be weird and too soon, if she'll smile up at her or glare at her.

Her hand moved slightly, her fingers inches away from Santana's hand, so close that she could almost feel-

"Here it is" Santana announces pushing through the door to the café, smiling back at her like she had no idea of her internal struggle. A man behind the counter greets them, his black hair slicked back and a pair of black rimmed reading glasses low down on the bridge of his nose.

Santana orders for the both of them while Brittany gets a seat next to the window, passing the time by watching the Goths and Hipsters that pass by.

Two cups of coffee and a huge slice of New York cheesecake lands on the table, Santana sits down across from her shortly after and doesn't waste any time with drinking her coffee and goes straight for a bite of the dessert.

The moan she makes when she tries it causes a blush to rise in Brittany's cheeks and she busies herself with pouring milk into her coffee to try and hide it.

A fork is thrust in front of her face "Try it"

It is like heaven in cream cheese and biscuit base form.

"I think I want to be buried beside this cheesecake" she croons, once she's stolen the fork from Santana and took her second bite. Santana throws her head back in a laugh, the volume echoing in the almost empty café.

She takes a sip of her coffee "Aren't you missing classes being here with me?"

Santana shrugs "Aren't you missing work?"

She doesn't want to tell her the reason she's off work, it's too soon "Touché" she simply replies.

Her voice changes to one of intrigue "You know there's are shocking amount of horror movies about college kids"

Santana leans forward, blowing the steam off her mug "Yes but all those are about sororities and I'm not in a sorority"

"So?" she says, watching the way the other girls eyes never leave hers when she takes a sip "There's always someone that gets caught in the cross fire of a serial massacre, I'm just concerned for your safety"

Santana snorts "There's more chance of _me _turning into the next Buffalo Bill than any of the dipshits in my dorm house"

"That makes me feel real good about being _your_ friend"

Santana rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips "Eat your cheesecake"

Brittany holds her hands up in surrender "Whatever you say" she smirks into her third bite, mumbling under her breath "Serial killer"

Santana rolls her eyes again, kicking Brittany under the table, smile still tugging at her lips as Brittany cackles in laughter.

* * *

They end up sitting under a tree in the green just outside Santana's dorm room, it's kind of strange and Brittany feels out of place but it's just them sat under a huge tree and it's really calming yet she can't figure out why.

Brittany lies on the grass, her hands behind her head as she stares up at the leaves above her. Her shirt has risen up, showing the curve of a hip bone, but she doesn't feel the need to pull the garment down "It's weird seeing you like this" she tells Santana, who is currently looking through a text book Brittany has no idea what's about, as she leans back against the trunk of the tree, a pair of glasses rests on her nose.

Santana doesn't look up "Like what?"

"Like, natural" she explains "Not in pitch black or under crappy strip lighting" she looks up slightly, watching Santana read for a moment "I mean, I thought you were beautiful before but now it's like" Santana looks at her through the top of her glasses "Just wow" she breathes.

Her head drops back down and her fists tighten in her hair with frustration, worrying about whether or not she's just done something really stupid.

She doesn't get time to find out because a football careens straight into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her slightly but otherwise she's unharmed.

Santana is up and grabbing the ball out of her lap before she can react, throwing it straight at the dumb looking frat boys head "Watch where you're throwing next time asshole" she shouts at him, finger pointing and jaw set firm.

"Maybe you could conjure up a brain cell between your _annoying_, date rape friends and find a _nice_ shady spot to play jamboree -or whatever the fuck you idiots play- so _Ma and Pa_ back home don't get worried when you come home with a light sunburn on your _high cheekbones_; you limp dick, fuck wit, _mama's boy_ with a Charlie Sheen haircut"

The boy cowers and Brittany looks up at Santana in pure shock, and a little admiration.

Santana turns back around to face Brittany but doesn't look at her, instead she looks up at the sky, her back still tense "I have a bitchy side, alright" she explains "If you don't like it then there's the door" she points to nowhere in particular then goes back to where she was sitting before and picks up her text book and pretends to read it. Brittany's eyes never leave her.

"There's no door there" Brittany whispers almost conspiratorially, sitting up and moving so she's sat next to the other girl, Santana goes to explain herself but Brittany interrupts her "And I like it by the way" she smiles "I think it adds to just how amazing and fascinating you are" Santana looks up at her, her eyes kind and full of trust.

It would be the best time for a first kiss, Brittany thinks, yet it's not "Plus, that guy looked like he was about to crap his pants and if you do that a lot I might just have to spend every day with you because it would be too hilarious not to"

Santana blushes, going back to pretending to read with an unabashed smile. Brittany's hand moves to tug at the grass beneath them and a sneaky hand moves to play with her fingers, running over her palm so lightly that it tickles.

* * *

"Can I tell you something?" Brittany whispers. They'd been out there so long the sun was about to set and hadn't moved once.

Santana nods, watching a group of women walk past, their hair done nicely and in tight fitting dresses "Sure"

"I broke up with Quinn"

"Who's Quinn?"

"You know from the…" she gestures behind her like the movie theatre is right there and Santana will be able to understand.

"Oh you mean '_Girl who kissed you once and always wears her name tag backwards'_"

"You noticed that too!" she shouts in both relief and disbelief "I swear, I was calling her Niuq for the first three weeks I knew her"

Santana bursts out laughing "Seriously?"

"I thought she just had a weird ethnic background or something, how was I supposed to know that it was just backwards" this of course makes Santana laugh even harder.

She tells her the entire story when she asks about it five minutes later, going so far as to tell her about Ms. Gunderson "…I guess in some ways I kind of knew"

"That she was cheating on you?"

"Yeah, we've been drifting apart for months" she explains, her head falling back against the tree "I think I knew but just didn't care"

"Is she at your apartment now?" Brittany nods "Well, do you want to stay in my dorm room?" she asks "My roommate snores like Darth Vader's asthmatic cousin but I manage to get a decent night's sleep most of the time"

Brittany has no idea what to say, figuring that it's better than a worn out seat in the theatre she nods. "Great" Santana smiles "We'll have to hide you though, she doesn't really like strangers"

"She sounds charming" Brittany laughs.

"You have no idea"

* * *

Of course Santana would have to come out of the bathroom at precisely the moment she pulls her pants down; apparently her plan to get under the covers in just her underwear and a t-shirt before she came out hadn't worked out.

Santana stares at her bare legs in shock "What are you doing?"

"I didn't want to get into your bed with dirty jeans" she tries to explain but it's kinda awkward because her pants are still round her ankles and neither of them had moved yet.

Santana tugs on her old t-shirt and _very _short shorts, looking up at the ceiling and trying to hide an amused smile "Get in then"

Brittany complies; kicking her jeans under the single bed and climbing under the covers, the room is nearly pitch black apart from the small amount of street light reaching through the drapes.

"You're freezing" Santana comments when she slips in next to her, their bodies impossibly close in such a small space.

You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

"Goodnight" Santana drawls, high pitched and nervous. She shifts so she's on her side, facing away from Brittany, her eyes not once drifting shut.

Brittany was a cuddler by birth, so not being able to fulfill the urge to wrap her arms around the other woman and cuddle the crap out of her was killing her.

Especially since the girl smelt like raspberries and raspberries have and always will be the _bomb diggity_.

Why not cuddle her? What is the worst that could happen?

She turns, her body fitting perfectly into Santana's, her heart drumming in her ears and just when she's about to wrap her arm around her waist and lock in the cuddle, the door rattles and Santana jumps back, whispering hurriedly for her to get under the bed.

She ends up falling between the crack between the wall and the bed with a thump.

"What was that?" Santana's roommate gasps.

Santana clears her throat "I uh… I farted"

"Ew"

Her roommate bangs about for about ten minutes, knocking into every surface she possibly can while Santana stares, wide awake, at the ceiling and Brittany tries not to choke on dust and cobwebs.

"We really need to get a maid" the covers shift as she gets into the bed parallel to Santana's "With your personal hygiene we should of got one a _long_ time ago"

"Shut up Rachel" she wants to add _you stupid_ _twat swatter_ –or whatever the female gay version of cock block is- she doesn't though, Rachel would never shut up about it if she did.

She waits for that telltale moment when Rachel's trap falls open and she lets out a gurgling sound like nails in a blender, signaling that she's finally asleep.

"Can I come out now?" Brittany whispers from under the bed.

"Yeah" she whispers back. Brittany shimmies out from under the bed, brushing the dust off her shirt before lifting up the duvet and climbing in next to her. "Are you okay?"

"I had to fight off a few blood thirsty spiders but otherwise I'm fine and dandy" she says, voice not above a whisper.

When Santana moves onto her side this time Brittany doesn't hesitate to lock in that cuddle.

* * *

She finds that this Rachel girls snoring is quite soothing.

It should keep her awake all night but it doesn't, it rocks her to sleep like a lullaby, her front pressed firmly against Santana's back, their hands clasped together over the girl's heart.

She stirs from her slumber when a stream of sun comes through a crack in the drapes and shines on her eyes; the light invading her sleep until she's wide awake.

Santana's still asleep; her features calm, mouth slightly open to let out a breath every now and again. She moves back a bit, taking her arm from around the other girl and just looks down on her when Santana automatically moves to lie on her back.

Santana's eyes flutter open awhile later, her mouth already forming a yawn "How long have you been watching me?" she whispers, hoarsely.

Brittany shrugs, head resting on her hand "About ten minutes"

"Creep" she says and Brittany laughs, quietly. She crawls out of Santana's bed, grabbing her jeans and pulling them on, Santana watching her the entire time.

"And you call me a creep" Brittany comments, doing the button up on her pants.

Santana rolls her eyes "Where are you going?"

"I have work in like two hours and I wanted to get some stuff from my apartment" she leans down, booping Santana on the nose "Plus you have classes"

"How do you know? I could have the whole day off and have nothing to do" she stretches out her back with a quiet moan.

Brittany smiles "Fine, then you can come visit me at work if you have the whole day off"

* * *

Quinn's there when she enters the apartment, half way through a bowl of cornflakes and reading the paper like nothing has happened. "Brittany" she says in surprise, her spoon clanging loudly when it falls into the bowl.

Brittany doesn't look at her, going straight towards the bedroom "I'm just getting my stuff and then I'll be gone"

"Wait" Quinn follows her "Can we talk? I'm sor-"

"There's nothing to talk about Quinn" She throws in a couple t-shirts into a duffel bag "We're not together anymore"

"Don't you love me?" Quinn asks, Brittany lets out a deep sigh and she takes that as her answer "You can't just change your feelings over night!" she shouts making Brittany flinch "Is there someone else?"

Brittany carries on packing the bag "I'm not even going to respond to that"

"There is isn't there" Quinn accuses, marching towards her "It's that girl from the cinema isn't it? The one you spend every Friday with?" she spits "Did you fuck her?"

Brittany looks back at her in confusion "What?"

"Did you fuck her?" she repeats.

Brittany stands "Seriously? Get off you high horse, was it not just two days ago that I caught you in _our _bed with your head between the legs of some muscle headed bitch from the gym" she throws the bag at Quinn's chest "And this is _my_ apartment, you cheated on me and I'm the one moving out and you know why? Because I am a good person and I am a good girlfriend. I doubt that the single celled idiot from the gym would do that"

She grabs the lamp of the bedside table, walking towards the door "By the way, that 'girl' from the cinema, happens to be the most interesting, amazing, and funniest person I've ever met" she opens the door "And you know what? I think I might just love her"

She slams the door shut, leaving the apartment- and in some ways a part of her life- behind.

/

A group of senior citizens came in at around three o'clock, giggling and joking around like they were a bunch of school kids. They demanded to watch _Old Yeller_ and Brittany offered to take them since she had nothing better to do than change the light bulbs in the women's bathroom.

Who needed light to pee anyway?

"Those aren't yours" Mike chastises when she tries to sneak a box of dots into the projectionist's room.

"Come on" she whines.

He raises his eyebrows "No"

"Fine, I didn't want them anyway" she says, handing him the box and taking the walk of shame into the room.

She gets the old yeller reel out, threads it through the projector and pulls the lever to start the film, adjusting the focus and checking how each frame ran. When she's satisfied that it's playing right she starts on the second projector.

There's a knock at the door.

"Come in"

The small white door creeks open and Santana walks in, sporting a mischievous smile "I had to sneak past your boss, he's probably not very fond of the fact that I've been watching movies for free for the past four months"

Brittany grins "I never told him, I'd probably lose my job if I did"

"Well aren't we a bunch of rebels" Santana laughs, she puts her bag down and takes her jacket off, showing the tight red V-neck t-shirt she wore underneath.

"Ditching classes again?"

"No" she smiles "I only had one lecture this morning so I thought I'd come see you" she moves around the room, picking up different reels and tools and looking at them with interest.

Brittany looks back to the projector, unable to focus and something clicks, she doesn't know what it was or what drove her to do it but she took four slow, deliberate steps towards Santana, her hand reaching for the girls arm.

Santana turns; a small smile on her face but it disappears replaced by a look of surprise and underlining lust. The reel in her hand clangs when it hits the ground.

Brittany smashes their lips together, her palm resting almost delicately against Santana's cheek compared to the force and passion she puts into the kiss. Their lips move in sync with each other's movements; when Santana's hand gripped onto her neck Brittany kissed her top lip, when Brittany pushed her up against the table and lifted her to sit on top of it, Santana gripped onto the cool metal furniture and deepened the kiss.

Santana gasps and breaks the kiss, out of breath and eyes darker than Brittany's ever seen them "How long 'til you have to change projectors?"

"Half an hour" Santana groans, grabbing a fist of Brittany's shirt and pulling her down on top of her, both their weights supported by the table.

Brittany reaches up to pull her own shirt over her head, throwing it in no particular direction and tugging on the button of Santana's chinos.

Santana shimmies out of them once Brittany's popped the button, kicking them off along with her converse. "You smell really good" Brittany kisses her neck.

"It's raspberries" Santana manages out, turning her head to give better access.

Brittany smirks "I know" she pushes her hands slowly up Santana's body, taking the red shirt with her as she goes, she sits up slightly so she has enough space to remove the barrier. "I like your bra" Brittany murmurs, staring down at Santana's exposed body.

"You'll probably like what's underneath a lot better" she husks before her hand finds its way into Brittany's jeans.

* * *

"Can you hear that Derrick?" Silvia said to her husband, just as the boy she'd forgotten the name of went to check on Old Yeller.

"What?"

"Moaning" Derrick perks his head up, listening for a few seconds.

"Nope" he says then goes back to the film, his hearing might not be the same as it was when he was a young man but he definitely could not hear any moaning.

* * *

A bell rang overhead, signaling a change of projectors; Brittany moved over to the second projector, a mostly naked Santana wrapped around her waist and giggling into her neck.

She starts the second projector and switches off the first, using her feet so her hands don't have to leave Santana's ass.

Brittany smiles "So I was planning on going on a date with myself tomorrow night, do you wanna come?"

Santana pecks her on the lips "I'd love to"


End file.
